Composer's Block
by ThreeJane
Summary: Pre LOTR; set in Rivendell and giving mysterious Erestor a cameo in which he tries to inspire the Bard Lindir for new songs. Relating to the events around the fall of Gondolin. The story sat in my drawer for too long. Yesterday I watched the 3rd part of the Hobbit again and just thought I could finally throw this out into public :)


**Composer's Block**

„Lindir, will you not join us in the Hall of Fire tonight?" Elrond stopped the minstrel on his way out of the large common dining-hall.

„Not tonight, my Lord. Maybe tomorrow." The silver-haired elf declined politely.

„That is what you said for days." Elrond feigned a sulk.

„I am working on a new lay and have to think. I need quiet, not music to proceed." Lindir said with slight consternation in his voice. He settled down in the library and stared at a piece of parchment.

Moments later: A golden head appeared in the door. Glorfindel smiled and asked "Are you joining us in the Hall of Fire tonight, Lindir?"

„No, I'm not." Lindir snapped. He was in an exceptionally bad mood. He couldn't come up with anything new lately.

"Everybody is missing our dearest mistrel's voice." Glorfindel quipped.

„NO!" Lindir exclaimed. Glorfindel backed off, shocked – nobody had ever heard the soft-spoken minstrel yell like this. Mouth agape he stared at the other elf. „Leave me alone, please. I need it QUIET!" Lindir said with exasperation. Why could they not leave him alone?

In turning, Glorfindel almost ran over Erestor who merely arched one delicate eyebrow, hands tucked away in the sleeves of his formal robe. "Warriors…" he muttered, shaking his head.

"May I enter, Lindir?" he asked, his feet on the threshold.

Lindir was about to yell at whoever the new intruder was but quickly mastered his temper at seeing the ancient Noldo stand in the doorway. Clad in stately robes of dark gray embroidered with silver the ancient one reminded Lindir of a polished piece of onyx. The hair was only marginally braided in order to keep it from falling into the Counselor's vision, otherwise if fell freely down Erestor's back, shimmering like a raven's wing where the light caught in the curls.

"Of course, Erestor. Please, come-in and sit." Lindir replied politely. Anything but would have been an offense and no-one dared doing so. The ancient Noldo's wrath was legendary and nobody wanted to be the victim of it.

"I just saw the twins running as if all of Mordor were behind them." it was typically for the Chief Counselor to bat around the bush. He considered too direct approach of any matter a blunt, tactless thing.

"Oh." Lindir's mouth formed a perfect O. "Well, I threw them out of here."

"Really?" Erestor smiled inwardly. It was much more fun to find out things when people more or less gave away facts on their own. "That is not like you, my friend." Erestor chose a seat, his black eyes never leaving Lindir's form, searching for signs that would betray more than Lindir's words alone.

"My patience has limits. You know how they are." Lindir said.

"Now, if there is one elf who would never lose patience with those two, that would be you. What could they possibly do to bring even your patience to an end?"

It seemed unimaginable that good-natured Lindir would ever. "If they played you so badly I should immediately have them punished. There are limits and they have to learn that." Erestor said sternly.

"No!" Lindir fought off the idea, not noticing the small, satisfied smile on Erestor's face. "'Tis only that..." the minstrel sighed gravely. It came hard on him to admit his complete failure. "I cannot come up with another lay! It is as if I'm burned-out - I cannot even complete one sentence and without the subject, how could I possibly think of a melody? I'm trying and trying for weeks now and nothing genuine will flow from my hand." now that he had started to confess his problem, Lindir thought he felt better already. "I ruined four quills and countless sheaves of parchment but I cannot produce as much as a lullaby." Lindir's shoulders slumped.

"Oh." Erestor was unexpectedly moved by the desperation in Lindir's eyes and voice. "There have been delegations coming and going. Some from remote places. And nobody could relate anything new or inspiring to you?" the Chief Counselor asked incredulously.

"Nay. Maybe I have lived too long..." the white-haired minstrel sighed deeply.

"Don't say that, old friend." Erestor leant forward. "I shall tell you what I have not told anybody before - what nobody else can by now tell, for they have all faded or left these shores."

"Really?" Lindir was intrigued. Usually Erestor was not one of the talkative elves.

"Listen, then: It was on our flight from Gondolin. I had been told to stay with young Earendil like some other warriors. Idril had sent us ahead into the tunnel she had delved in secret over years past. Even I - servant to the house of Tuor - had not known of that endeavor! With us was a confidant of Idril's and she guided us to the hidden entrance of that tunnel.

"Behind us the city stood aflame, the walls shook with the power of the fire-drakes' assault and as we ran, stones came tumbling down, hitting some of us. We entered the cave without hesitation, only young Earendil had to be carried for he would not go inside without his mother near.

We ran down several hundred steps of a winding stair hewn into the bare rock that had supported our city for so long. And even down there the ground shook with the battle above. I cannot say what I dreaded more: to perish in the raging fight or to be buried alive in the seemingly endless cavern."

Lindir listened with rapture as Erestor created a vivid image of the scene long gone. Erestor had never ever told him anything so personal. To be true, Erestor had never told him anything and thus the minstrel did not dare to interrupt.

" The entrance was guarded by some stalactites and stalagmites. I thought it was a bit overdone in design to make the cave look ancient with the help of such decor, but after all, if Lady Idril thought that was what she had wanted, I would not question her taste.

Now, as we proceeded into the recesses of that dark shaft, something seemed wrong. The walls were damp and overgrown with some soft material. That appeared to be strange for the work on that tunnel had gone on until only a day before - how should such thick moss grow in one day? We could not make out a single trail in the moss where there should have been paths worn from the dozens of workers. Yet it seemed untouched.

Now and then sickening fumes blew into our faces so that we already worried the path would be blocked some hundred yard ahead. It smelled like rotten flesh and we feared the worst. Some drew blades that had been sheathed after entering this dark place.

The dampness was something else that seemed wrong to me. Gondolin was not near any swamp, river or subterranean rivulet. Yet it was so damp that we soon were drenched in our sweat. And it was hot! Far hotter than the few torches would seem to be able to produce as heat.

"After we had run some hundred yards, we needed to rest. Breathing was getting harder and harder in that damp heat. It seemed to be suffocating - not only for the enclosure that was a horror of itself to us. Some sat down and suddenly their surprised and shocked cries roused everybody to alertness again. They pointed at the shoes of their comrades, at their shin-guards and believe it or not: the leather was being dissolved, even the metal buckles and enforcements were afflicted by whatever had caused it. We soon learned it was the moss we walked on!

Wishing only to get out into the open as soon as possible, we decided to move on and kept pressing forward. But breathing had become so difficult by that time! It should not be so because Idril had made clear there was an exit onto the plane at the other end - where was the fresh air that should blow through that tunnel? Something must have blocked it - mayhap the cavern had collapsed somewhere ahead? Some quavered, for the idea of being buried alive is one of the most terrifying horrors to our kin."

"Thus we paused again. Even the torches were too heavy for our arms. We came across some bones that lay littering the ground. They looked rather old and we could not make anything of that. Why should Idril have bones brought down here? Or have the workers had had a feast? Down here? Nay, no elf would willingly stay in this disgusting place, we were sure of that. It seemed that Melko had cast some kind of spell onto us, thus weakening the strong. We could no longer carry the little one which had slowed us down even more. So when we halted again, we rammed the torches into the cavern's walls...

"A deep, growling rumble occurred, we could not say if it was sound or movement, so deep it was but the ground shook violently, we lost footage and tumbled over one another. The fumes had gotten worse with every step, condensing into a stinking mist with no sign of fresh air or a ray of sunlight. Though those among us who had helped building the secret way were certain we should by now near the end that lead back onto the open air.

Our shoes were almost gone and some of us were already suffering sores on their bare feet. Our breath came in heavy gulps, we felt like fish on the dry land and we were really suffocating. The torches died with the lack of air and we had reached the place where the tunnel had obviously collapsed for we stood at a dead end. Our hearts fell, realizing that we had lost that last hope for escape. And to my sheer horror, I saw that the shadows of the torches sticking in the walls were extending. They grew longer and longer. I rubbed my eyes only to realize that it were not shadows but some liquid pouring forth from the holes the torches had thrust into the wall. Since the ground was still shaking, it was hard to focus my gaze onto any spot long enough to discern anything more clearly."

Erestor paused. The memory was still affecting him deeply, it seemed. The ancient Noldo wiped his face before he took a deep breath and continued.

"I cannot say who realized the truth first - it seems that most of our small host understood at the same moment what was going on, were we truly were: inside a giant worm! Panic and confusion gripped even the bravest among us. The women and children were crying and despairing. It was only for Egalmoth's cold blood that some discipline was kept up. With his voice carrying over all the noise he told us to draw the swords and attack the dead end. I thought he had lost his mind... Then I realized that, if this was some kind of end, it was probably the end of that worm! My feet hurt with the acid from below - my shoes had completely been... digested. As would we very soon.

"So I drew my sword and with the others still able to perform such a desperate act, we attacked the end and indeed caused damage! the cavern convulsed on end, making it hard to hit a target yet we kept hewing into the amazingly soft walling. Some lost consciousness, fell into the mossy ground now soaked with the beasts blood and perished before our eyes; then, with consciousness almost gone, the first rays of light fell into the dark.

This rekindled hope in those still alive and we doubled our efforts. Not too much later we had hacked a large opening into the worm's end and struggled outside, gasping for air. We stared with amazement at the huge slimy trail that marked the worm's path. The stink was terrible even out in the open - but we were alive! Stumbling ahead on sore feet, we headed for the mountains that were still far away."

Lindir stared at Erestor, mouth agape. He had never heard anything alike! "That... that was... by the Valar, Erestor! Why had there been no account of this?"

"We were too jaded, Lindir. We had survived, what else was there to tell? Nobody of us wanted to look back." Erestor replied.

Then it slowly dawned Lindir he had been fooled with some great horror-story! Lindir let out a laugh. "That was the most frightening story, Erestor! You almost had me! Still, it should be enough to inspire me. Thank you, my friend."

"Yes, I almost had you..." Erestor smiled. "You are most welcome, Lindir. Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do." He stood and left the room, heading for his office. His feet hurt - the missing toes and acid-burns had never really healed.

The End.


End file.
